


If We Ever Meet Again

by Pinkstationfrerard



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Mall AU, Pining, Shopping Malls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3729421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkstationfrerard/pseuds/Pinkstationfrerard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick squeaked in surprise at the sight of Pete on the ground, legs askew and tangled in roller blades, dressed head to fucking toe in highlighter yellow and a crop top, just because God was cruel like that.</p><p>(a.k.a Pete can't hold a stable job in the mall and Patrick is the cute customer that may or may not be following him around.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	If We Ever Meet Again

"Pete, what the hell."  
  
Joe sighed in his direction, holding a Hot Topic bag in one hand and a Starbucks cup, which he held out to Pete in the other. He was doing his classic "are you fucking kidding me, Wentz" face, unphased by anything, including the mystical powers of Pete's incredibly charming (if he says so himself) smile.   
  
"Uh, I got fired from Aeropostale this time?"  
  
Joe sighed, shaking his head, messy and unshaved curly hairs at the top of his head bouncing in disappointment. He sat down at the table across from Pete, a few stores away from Abercrombie and Fitch, the newest installment in Pete's "mall adventures: how to get from hired to fired!"   
  
It was Pete's break before his next shift, and he was honestly _so_ not down for another Trohman lecture on how he couldn't maintain a job or a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a _friend_ of any sort, blah blah blah. God, Joe was _so_ much more fun when he was stoned.   
  
"I'm surprised they haven't kicked you out of the mall yet, seriously. How many stores have you worked at so far?" He said tiredly as Pete downed half of his coffee in one go, relishing in the bittersweet caffeine.   
  
"I think 5?"  
  
Joe snorted, tucking a red, lively curl back behind his ear. "How do you even get hired anywhere? Seriously, you change jobs like, every fucking week. I'm exhausted just looking at you."  
  
Pete sat up straight, raising his dark brows high. "Excuse you, I am a committed employee to each and every store I choose to commit myself to. For that one precious week, that is. I'm the best worker you'll ever find." Joe just rolled his eyes and stole a sip of Pete's coffee before upturning a nose in disgust.   
  
"How the hell do you drink black coffee? That shit is nasty." Joe said, voice thick with hate.   
  
"Says Joe Troh, the iron lungs. You can smoke weed through a gas mask but you can't drink black coffee? _Weak_."   
  
They bickered for a couple more minutes as usual before settling on a bet; if Pete could stay in one store for more than two weeks, then Joe wouldn't get high that same length of time. If Pete couldn't, then he owed Joe fifty bucks.   
  
They shook on it, stupidly seventh grade. Pete checked his phone for the time, frowning to himself. "I gotta go in a few, I got some cute people to charm into buying over priced clothes." Pete smirked, running a hand through his hair.   
  
"You're nothing if not persuasive." Joe shrugged, smiling and kicking his feet out to claim Pete's chair after he got up.   
  
"You're an asshole. I'll text you later, let's watch shitty horror movies and get baked tonight." Pete suggested. That's all they ever did, it was pretty awesome.   
  
Chuckling, Pete walked away and back to the store, checking his eyeliner in the bathroom before taking his shift. He was already a little woozy from the fumes, jesus, Abercrombie and Fitch did not know how to lay low on the perfumed AC.   
  
It was the same old routine he'd built up during the day: catch a costumer's eye, smile charmingly, ask if they wanted any help and bat his eyes subtly at them. It usually made people of all genders slightly frazzled and more likely to buy things Pete suggested, which, hey, pretty fucking _awesome_. He was like a wizard salesman who gathered souls using 30% off deals.   
  
It wasn't until a shy voice behind him said "excuse me?" That Pete turned around and was, for once, not completely confident and up to speed on life as usual.   
  
A little bucket of sunshine was holding up a cardigan sweater, a tasteful dark blue that contrasted with his fair skin tone. He was wearing a button up underneath along with black skinny jeans, glasses, and a fucking _fedora_ , which seemed to go well with the little whispy strawberry blonde hairs peeking underneath the brim of the hat.   
  
"Do you have this in a bigger size?" He asked, biting a plump lip and shuffling his feet, boots making a scuffing noise against the sparkly black tile.   
  
Pete regained his focus after a second, eyes snapping back up to meet the other guy's pretty blue-green ones.   
  
"Oh, yeah! Probably. I'll check in the back, let me see which one this is.." Pete said, giving off a more genuine of his charming smiles, peering up at the little dude through his dark bangs. He was really fucking _short_ , even shorter than Pete. That had to be a national record or _something_.  
  
He checked the tag and walked briskly to the storage room, finding the same cardigan in a size medium. The guy was short and a little chubby, absolutely adorable and utterly _perfect_. The sweater was going to look great on him. Pete voiced this opinion as he handed the cardigan to the customer, who blushed a deep pink hue as he asked where the dressing rooms were.   
  
Pete didn't see him again until he was leaving the store and Pete called out a "have a good day!" Along with a small wave, the other man returning it before he walked away, flushed.

~~~

  
The rest of the day went smoothly, save for the fact that Pete knocked down 4 racks of clothing, hit on three too many customers in the hopes of making more sales, and he ( _accidentally_ ) called a (r _eally fucking rude_ ) customer a bitch.   
  
Long story short, Pete owed Joe Trohman 50 bucks.  
  
Even shorter, he decided to not make any more bets with Joe, considering that his new job at the fucking _fitness store_ was going to last him a good 2 days if he was lucky.   
  
"A fucking record. You managed to get fired on your first fucking _day_." Joe giggled, sipping on a smoothie, high as hell, and of course, spending the day tailing Pete at his new job to watch the disaster unfold.   
  
"Fuck off, Trohman." Pete muttered under his breath, lacing up bright yellow roller skates that Joe was sure to make a comment on sooner rather than later.   
  
He put on an equally horrendous crop top, highlighter yellow and disgusting, and he strapped on protector bands of some sort that he had no fucking clue how to put on, or like, assemble or whatever you did with sports.. things. Joe was no help, he just laughed at Pete's misery with his stupid new job.   
  
It was only his second day and he was forced to roller skate around the store and give talks about safety to customers to "interact with the consumers and inspire them to do physical activity". Aka, inspire Pete to shoot both his brains out and Joe's along with him.   
  
Thank god he only had to do it for an hour, the outfit clashed with his dark skin tone. At least it showed off his tattoos, which the manager didn't seem to mind, unlike his piss poor reaction to the eyeliner. Dick.   
  
Pete was spinning in circles in an empty store besides a hysterical Joe when he heard a pair of footsteps coming through the door. Pete spun around and fell directly on his ass, resisting the urge to curse near his boss.   
  
_Especially_ after he saw who had just walked in.   
  
The cute dude from the day he worked at Ambercrombie and Fitch was standing with a heavily tattooed, ginger bearded man who looked like he could beat the living hell out of Pete.  
  
Cute guy squeaked in surprise at the sight of Pete on the ground, legs askew and tangled in roller blades, dressed head to fucking toe in highlighter yellow. _And_ a crop top, because God was cruel like that.   
  
"Oh my god, are you okay?" He exclaimed, walking forward and offering a hand to Pete, who gladly accepted the calloused grip as he ungracefully wobbled back into a standing position.   
  
"Uh, yeah, I'm alright. Considering finding a new job, though. This has taken fitness too far." He said nervously, embarrassed beyond belief, scratching the back of his head.   
  
"Weren't you working at a different store the other day?" Cute guy asked, eyes widening at what he said. Observant guy, or maybe Pete was like a black sharpie among highlighters on a usual day when he wasn't wearing a ridiculous "sport" outfit. Sports could suck Pete's dick, sports of ever kind sucked and got him into embarrassing situations.   
  
The shorter man looked down, pushing up his glasses and staring at his shoes.   
  
"Got fired." Pete said simply, shrugging. Joe was watching the scene unfold with interest from behind Pete, stupid glazed-over eyes most likely just staring at Pete's ass. Stupid straight stoner pervert.   
  
"That sucks." The guy said sympathetically, brows drawing tight. He concentrated on Pete's name tag for a second, extremely expressive face flicking up back to Pete. "Uh.. Pete. I'm Patrick, and this is Andy."   
  
Pete had almost forgotten the existence of the other dude next to Patrick, no longer just labeled as "cute guy". Cute guy had a cute name, nice.   
  
"Welcome to the phys-zone, Patty and Andy. What can I do for you?" Pete said, spreading his arms wide and sliding back on his rollers, beaming. Patrick's mouth twitched at the playful nickname, maintaining this intense yet not uncomfortable eye contact with Pete.   
  
The ginger beard dude, Andy, looked like a big rough dude but had the voice of a bunny rabbit, high pitched and squeaky.   
  
"I convinced Patrick here to try out the purium cleanse that I've been on, it's worked miracles. If you can get past the kale shake taste." Andy said in his tiny voice, scratching a tattooed arm.  
  
Patrick was looking Pete up and down, probably focusing on his stupid clothing and definitely not his bare stomach with that regrettable tattoo that suddenly made Pete feel a little self-conscious. He didn't let it show, though, he just grinned and threw tiny Patrick a wink, rollerblading to the cleanse section of the store.   
  
"I've heard from tons of people that you drop weight really easily on this stuff. Personally, I think you're cute and perfect without disgusting kale involved." Pete said to Patrick, throwing a genuine smile that was curled up at the edges, crinkled in the corners of Pete's eyes.   
  
Patrick did that cute head-ducking thing again, looking down and readjusting his hat.   
  
"Oh? Ah! Thanks." He said awkwardly before continuing. "Aren't you trying to be convincing me to buy products, though?" Patrick said, laughing lightly.   
  
"I'll probably be fired within the day for unprofessionalism or something." Pete said, shrugging as usual, and then perking up.   
  
"Plus, I'm saving you pain. From my experience with diets, I gain it all back with pizza rewards and feel much better with a pizza-filled stomach instead of a kale-filled stomach. Who cares if it makes it a bigger stomach? It's pizza-filled, and I like it better that way."   
  
Patrick outright fucking giggled, bursting into laughter that he tried to smother with his hands. His face along with his neck flushed pink, and Andy just chuckled.   
  
"You do have a point. I tried, Patrick." Andy sighed in a way that could be considered dramatic for him. "I'll make us vegan pizzas after I can finally eat real food again." Patrick giggled, and Pete wondered dangerously if they were dating for a second. Their arms brushed together, which could _totally_ be platonic but totally not.   
  
"Thanks, Pete. Have a good day." Patrick said sweetly as the pair walked out of the store, Pete watching Patrick's cute little butt and wondering why his life had become a wasteland.   
  
"Dude, you are like, _so_ incredibly fucked." Joe finally spoke up, looking at Pete with incredibly wide eyes. Pete frowned and silently agreed with a scrunched up brow and the fading sound of Patrick's laughter glued in his head.

~~~

  
The fitness store job lasted about one more day. Apparently, they didn't appreciate Pete deliberately turning customers away from products, simply because it was "pretty gross" or "not worth the effort, honestly". Pete didn't even know how on earth he got hired in the first place.   
  
It was time to turn in his roller blades and use his friend Gerard to help get himself a job in Sephora. It was Pete's _thing_ , makeup and white people trying on blue eyeshadow, and he should've bet Joe that he could maintain a job at _this_ store.   
  
Joe just kept wanting to make a bet that Patrick would follow him around to every store he went to.   
  
Pete promptly grumbled and elbowed  Joe in his side. He couldn't get the shy man out of his head, and it was actually pretty _annoying_ , not to mention time-consuming.  
  
"Fuck you. If I see him again I'll surely pull some sweet Wentz moves, but for now I'll just try not to think about it." Joe just grunted noncommittally, probably just silently telling Pete he was dumb through telekinesis, or whatever.   
  
Once Pete liked someone, it was all or nothing. But Pete liked no one, he was a solo bird, and he _definetly_ didn't have a mini heart attack when he saw Patrick wearing a leather jacket with a purple and red patterned scarf walking through sephora self-consciously a few days after Pete started working there.   
  
Pete was organizing stacks of mascara when he looked up and saw him. "Welcome to Sephora! How can I help you?" Pete exclaimed in a cheerful voice.   
  
He was, of course, beaming and throwing a slightly shocked-looking Patrick a wink, who just laughed a little when he saw Pete.   
  
"Sephora, now? Maybe it's just my crazy brain talking, but I think you might be following me." Patrick chuckled in that surprisingly deep voice of his, shoving his pale hands in his jacket pockets.

Pete shook his head, reaching up a hand to pull his shiny straightened bangs out of his eyes. "No, I think you're following me, because I just can't maintain a job. I don't take you as a makeup kinda guy either, bud."  
  
Patrick smiled and shuffled his feet, both of them silent for a second. "Uh, I do actually need help. It's my girlfriend's birthday on Wednesday, and I wanted to get her makeup? I have no idea what to buy."  
  
The world "girlfriend" sent familiar swarms of something like dread down in Pete's stomach, and he threw back on his charm to hide his disappointment.   
  
Of course Patrick had a girlfriend, he was adorable and shy and perfect. Most importantly, he didn't seem to be too creeped out by Pete's strange puppy dog personality. Maybe he was only a little shy. That, Pete could definitely work with.   
  
Girlfriend? Not so much.   
  
"That's what I'm here for, probably temporarily at least. Don't you worry your pretty little head," Pete smiled, "I am a makeup expert. What does she usually wear?"   
  
Patrick blushed and shuffled his feet again, like he did when he got flustered. Way too adorable. "She likes lipstick a lot? She's got blonde hair, if that helps." Patrick offered.  
  
"Alright, come follow me. I'll get you something guaranteed to make her swoon."  
  
They contemplated over lipsticks for a while, the matte versus the gloss, Pete explaining what each did and so on. Patrick didn't seem to judge him of his makeup knowledge, he just nodded his head and brought up other points.   
  
"I'd go with this one, the colors are really bright and it's easy to apply as well." Patrick picked up the little tube that Pete offered to him, eyeing it considerably.   
  
"And. Uh. Eyeliner?" He said shyly, his head flipping up along with his hair. Pete wanted to take the stay strawberry blonde hairs out of the other man's eyes, but he had to remind himself _girlfriend girlfriend girlfriend_. No hitting on taken, probably straight, totally flawless dudes. That just _wasn't_ cool.   
  
Patrick left the store with a bag full of lipstick, sparkly liquid eyeliner and a neutral eye shadow palette, saying thanks to Pete once again and doing his cute little wave.   
  
"I know she'll love it. See you later, most likely." He called, chuckling. Gerard came up beside Pete, groaning dramatically, and Pete turned to playfully glare at him through coal black-rimmed eyes.   
  
"I saw you guys talking for like, _twenty_ _minutes_ over eyeliner. He's totally into you and just looking for an excuse to stalk you properly." He said in his stupidly high-pitched voice, crossing his arms.   
  
"He totally isn't because he was buying all that for his girlfriend. You don't buy from crazy expensive shit from sephora just so you could talk to some creepy dude with an emo fringe and too much eyeliner." Pete said, rolling his eyes. Gerard snorted.   
  
"That's kind of what happened with Frank. Only he worked in Hot Topic, and I go there every other week anyways," Gerard said, rolling his eyes right back at Pete.   
  
"You're trash." Pete giggled, punching Gerard lightly before he was pulled away by a customer looking for eyebrow makeup.   
  
Pete was left to think about how Patrick would kiss that lipstick right off a pretty girl in a few days, and his heart shook and sighed.   
  
Pete was so, so fucked.

~~~  
  
Pete was so done.   
  
He managed to survive in Sephora for more than a day, which was great. It was not great because on Friday, a plain but fairly pretty blonde girl came in to return the same things Patrick had bought on Sunday. He overheard her talking with the returns employee, and Pete felt his heart break a little.   
  
"Yeah, my ex bought me these for my birthday, but I felt bad because I was planning on breaking it off before then so he didn't have to buy me anything." She shrugged, like she didn't realize she just broke it off with the cutest human being to ever live on the planet. Well, at least so far to Pete's knowledge of Earth, and his educated guess that this was indeed Patrickʻs girlfriend.  
  
"Oh, why didn't it work out?" The lady working at the counter asked sadly, cooing with her fake-eyelash plastered face scrunching with concern.   
  
"Uh, Patrick's just kind shy, insecure too, and I could just never get him to open up to me." She shrugged again, hair bouncing on her shoulders. Poor Patrick.   
  
"That's understandable, I-" the lady was cut out from Pete's hearing as his ears were pulled away from the conversation and to another customer, his thoughts forced to be distracted for only a few minutes before he caught sight of the girl swiftly leaving, not looking ashamed of herself at all.   
  
At least Patrick was single now.   
  
Pete didn't see Patrick for a whole two weeks until he showed up again at the mall during Pete's lunch break, not looking heartbroken as he had expected. He was walking with the tattoo dude, Andy or something, who at least wasn't his boyfriend. Most likely, anyways.  
  
Pete considered a little creepy to say hi to a customer he'd seen three times and only partially fell in love with, so he just watched the pair out of the corner of his eye as he munched on a cookie. Patrick looked a little upset at one point, Andy patting his shoulder in comfort.   
  
Pete was forced to return to his job and stop watching cute boys who'd never go out with him get comforted by someone else, much to his dismay.   
  
This time, Pete was working at the CD store, which was probably going to close down within the next few months considering how fucking _slow_ his work days were.   
  
Pete was just glad it was a big mall with lots of places to be hired, because he would never repeat the story of how he got fired from sephora to anyone but Joe. Joe was a nosy motherfucker, but he was good at keeping secrets.  
  
He tapped his fingers against the table nervously, hoping Patrick would come in before he and Andy left, just so he could get some post-breakup compliments in to boost the kid's self esteem.   
  
Pete put on a Green Day CD and hummed annoyingly when the store emptied, occasionally spinning around in his chair or reorganizing the punk section of CD's whenever he got bored again. Which was _really_ fucking often.   
  
He was just reading a comic book when he heard someone quietly singing along to Green Day. Pete's ears perked up and he set Watchmen down to inspect this pretty voice, glad for an interruption in his boring last hour of work until he could go get pizza with Joe.   
  
Standing in the aisle hidden from Pete's desk view was Patrick, holding several CD's and singing Green Day next to an amused Andy, who was looking through the metal section.   
  
"Nice pipes you got there." Pete mused, leaning against one of the shelves.   
  
Patrick stopped singing and looked up with a gasp at Pete, apologizing profusely. "Oh, I didn't realize anyone could hear me, oh my, I'm so sorry." He stuttered, cheeks pink. Andy stood up and watched the ongoing scene, chuckling to himself.   
  
"It's totally fine. You should use those powers for good. Like a superhero with vocal chord and mouth powers." Pete said with a smirk, watching Patrick shuffle his CD's. Prince, David Bowie, and Blink 182. Oh, now Pete was in _love_.   
  
Patrick opened and closed his mouth again, resisting the urge to smile. "Oh, and what's your powers?" Patrick said, and hey, _that_ could be considered flirting back. Pete took it as a success.    
  
"Well, I'm really, really good at switching jobs. My only weakness is tiny men named Patrick who stalk me around the mall." Andy coughed loudly at that, and Patrick promptly shoved Andy's side all embarrassed and adorable.   
  
"Oh, really? Again, this stalker argument?" Patrick said surprisingly quietly, grabbing one of his arms and looking like he really, _really_ wanted to say something when his phone rang. Thank god it was on silent, Pete didn't know if he could handle a cute ringtone to go along with cute Patrick, _too_.   
  
"Hello?" He said quietly into the phone, face turning to one of confusion. Andy sighed and Pete turned away back to his desk, pretending to read his comic and just look at Patrick over it. He talked with the phone pressed up against his ear, voice on the edge of upset. He said his goodbyes after a few minutes, sliding the phone back into the back pocket of his jeans.   
  
"That was my landlord, Andy. Someone flooded the whole floor, God only knows how, and I have to go assess the damage." He sighed, walking to the counter with whatever CD's he had already grabbed and he gave Pete a small smile through his obvious frustration with the world.   
  
"Hey, at least you have good taste in music. This is my favorite Blink album." Pete offered, scanning the items and bagging them.   
  
Patrick snorted, "of course you'd like Take Off Your Pants And Jacket, creeper." But Patrick was smiling again, real and genuine, and their hands brushed together as Pete handed him the bag. Calloused and pale over dark and lanky fingers, then Patrick was gone again. Pete wanted more.   
  
He checked out all 8 of Andy's CD's, all managing to be the exact same type of metal. Andy just shrugged when Pete asked if he knew any of the bands. Strange dude.   
  
Then Patrick and is macho friend were gone again for the fourth time, leaving Pete to lay in bed that night wondering what his apartment looked like, and if his ex girlfriend knew how lucky she was to spend the night there the times she got to.   
  
"Dude, just fucking ask him out already." Joe groaned into one of Pete's pillows before shoving cold pizza in his mouth, munching happily on cheesy-induced goodness.   
  
"Oh, and say what? 'Hey you're really cute and I wanna take you out and kiss you and cuddle in your bed while smelling your hair and listening to your vinyl collection'?"   
  
Joe grunted. "Well, kind of. Paraphrase a little, but yeah."   
  
Pete just groaned and pouted, taking a slice of pizza from the plastic bag in the middle of them, resting on a pillow on the bed.  
  
"You know what, if I see him, I'll fucking ask him out and hold his hand and everything, all that shit. Then you can finally shut the fuck up."   
  
Joe grinned, turning his head to look directly at Pete. "Is that a promise?" He mused.   
  
"Whatever, sure, motherfucker. Why not." It was 10 am and Pete was tired from their previous night of 2 am video games, plus he had work in an hour, so why not make deals with the devil, aka Joe Trohman.   
  
"Just make me some fucking coffee and I'll blow him in a bathroom, I don't give a fuck. I need caffeine." Pete groaned, pushing Joe out of the bed to help encourage his mission.   
  
They sat in bed drinking coffee and bickering for as long as possible before Pete was forced to get dressed and ready for the day, reluctant and exhausted.   
  
It was almost a month later that newly hired Starbucks worker Pete Wentz (not actually fired this time, he quit because it was so boring working in the other store) almost forgot the deal he made with Joe. It wasn't like Patrick came to the mall every weekend, Jesus, so of course he didn't see the cute man for a while.   
  
"Can I get a chai tea latte? Grande, please." Pete spun around so fast he almost saw stars, and sure enough, there was the little chai tea latte himself.   
  
Patrick didn't seem to even know Pete was there when he paid and stood a few steps away from the counter, waiting for his coffee.   
  
Pete saw his golden, golden opportunity and took it.   
  
After he made Patrick's drink he wrote his number in messy sharpie on the side, with a 'Xoxo call me <3 Pete'. Hopefully it would work, and Patrick would call him, and-  
  
"Pete?" Patrick said softly, beaming from ear to hear as Pete set down his coffee. He eyed the sharpie and looked back up to Patrick, wearing the same stupidly adorable hat.   
  
"Enjoy your coffee, Patrick." Pete said, throwing another wink at the smaller man who was blushing once again.   
  
When Patrick texted him 15 minutes later, Pete only able to check it when he got off an hour later, with 'is it okay if I just text u instead of call?' Pete was smiling so wide he felt like his face would split.   
  
'Totally ok, as long as u agree 2 a date w me.'   
  
'As long as you don't wait so long to do it.'  
  
Pete's face was going to burst.   
  
After 45 minutes of sitting with him and eating discounted pastries, Pete concluded that Patrick was completely and utterly perfect.   
  
Reason #1: He actually agreed to go to get desserts at Starbucks again after Pete's shift ended the next day.   
  
Reason #2: He would blush every time Pete complimented him, which was really often, and act like he didn't believe Pete's words. Which was totally BS, because Patrick was flawless in every aspect.   
  
Reason #3: He ate really daintily. It was cute.   
  
Reason #4: Patrick had excellent taste in music and other forms of media, and he laughed at all of Pete's jokes and Breakfast Club references.  
  
Reason #5: Patrick went to the local music and arts college, a few years younger than Pete, still a shy college kid.   
  
Reason #6: Patrick.   
  
"Were you aware that you are flawless in every aspect, 'Trick?" Pete voiced his opinion, watching the other man duck his head for the 15th time in the past hour or so.   
  
"Oh, hush. I'm not that great." Patrick mumbled, swirling a straw around in his empty iced coffee cup, but he was smiling and it was totally worth all of Pete's effort.   
  
"You really are, and I might get so sad that they fire me if you don't go out with me again." Pete said, putting one of his hands over Patrick's and finally, finally getting to freely thumb the incredibly soft skin. Patrick didn't seem to mind Pete's lack of personal space, and it was totally amazing along with the rest of him.   
  
Patrick laughed, throwing his head back a little bit, bright blue-green eyes scrunching up as he smiled. Pete memorized the way the corners crinkled up, and the way his lips moved as he talked.   
  
"I had a great time. If you wanted, we could go out to lunch sometime this next week? My school schedule is kind of funky, but we can work something out."  
  
There was no way on Earth Pete could refuse.   
  
He walked Patrick to his apartment, which lied only a few blocks from the mall and inbetween the school. It was a little run down, but fairly nice all the same.   
  
They stared at each other with goofy expressions for a second, short little Patrick on the step above. He leaned down and kissed Pete's cheek before waving and walking away, shoulders hunched.   
  
It was probably the best kiss of Pete's life.   
  
It was the best kiss up until next week, that is. Patrick and Pete got salads on Thursday, and Patrick invited him to watch a movie in his apartment, both of them stumbling through the door laughing like crazy.   
  
Pete had to take a moment to take in the apartment. There were lights strung everywhere, currently turned off in the middle of the day, and vinyls and CD's stacked in almost every free space. Charmingly messy, and totally water-free.   
  
"How'd the flood affect this perfect arrangement?" Pete asked, shoes scuffling against the floor as he walked.   
  
"You remember that?" Patrick asked, amused. He played with a button on his red cardigan and slipped off his shoes, revealing fuzzy Easter socks that left Pete swooning.   
  
"Of course. Since day one I've been concerned for your wellbeing." Pete decided to do the same with his shoes, just in case it was one of Patrick's things that irritated him about guests.   
  
"Well, thank you. It turned out to not even reach my room, so I got less Pete time that day." He chuckled, kneeling down in front of his massive movie collection. "See anything you wanna watch?"  
  
Pete wanted to watch every single movie that Patrick owned, because if he bought it then he obviously loved it. Pete was on a mission to appreciate every part of the other man that he could get. He knew most of the titles, anyways, and Pete was impressed with the collection.   
  
"Whatever you want, I'm sure it'll be great."  
  
Patrick averted his eyes to the movies again, licking his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue. Pete sat back on Patrick's bed, sprawled out like a cat, sock-covered feet propped up on a pillow.   
  
Patrick got his laptop from his crowded work desk, sliding in a DVD. "How do you feel about Ferris Beuler's Day Off?"  
  
Pete beamed in response, sitting up against pillows and the bed frame as he patted the space next to him. Patrick laid down next to him, curled up closely against Pete's side. They balanced the laptop on half of both of their legs, Patrick's thick and beautiful thighs next to Pete's skinny little legs. His looked almost irrelevant in comparison.  
  
Patrick rested a head on Pete, linking their arms together, comfortable and relaxed. Pete could barely focus on the movie with the man's whispy little hairs tickling his neck, Patrick's comfortable weight pressed against Pete.   
  
It was a little strange to think that they'd met under so many weird occasions, complete with not-quite pickup lines.  
  
With a deep breath in, Pete linked their hands together, touching all those rough callouses with his dark fingertips gently. Patrick seemed to sink into him deeper, their legs tangling together. Before Pete knew it, the movie was already halfway through, and Pete was gently rubbing Patrick's soft and squishy hips.   
  
The other man's head turned upward, catching Pete's eye, and he couldn't resist the urge to lean down and press their lips together with the sounds of the movie fading away.   
  
It was soft and tentative, chaste. Pete reached over with a hand and cupped a hand to Patrick's beautiful jaw, thumbing his cheeks, the corner of his mouth. Patrick unintentionally opened his mouth, letting Pete slide a slow tongue in to taste the other man in a swirl of muscle and a press of his big hand against Patrick's soft hair and delicate cheek.   
  
The laptop fell to the side of Patrick's leg, allowing Pete to slip a calf over the shorter man's. His hold on Patrick strengthened, hand slipping down to his waist.   
  
They made out in what seemed like slow motion, soft and sweet in Patrick's warm bed. Pete roamed his hands all over Patrick's body, careful and gentle, but the other man never seemed to go against Pete's advances. He just continued to explore. When Pete slid a hand under Patrick's shirt, he seemed to tense just a little, almost unnoticeable to anyone else but the always Patrick-observing Pete.   
  
"Tell me if you're uncomfortable with anything." Pete said in a low voice, pushing himself up the bed to suck on one of Patrick's ear lobes. Patrick just made a noise of agreement and let Pete continue, even when his mouth trailed down to Patrick's exposed, pale and pretty little neck.   
  
"Can I?" Pete said, not really sure what he was asking completely. He looked up at Patrick through his dark lashes, beautiful eyes staring back at him.   
  
Patrick nodded, and Pete pulled down the rim of Patrick's shirt and sucked on a slightly flushed collarbone, sucking and biting the skin until there was a small mark. Then Pete moved his mouth to a different spot on Patrick's neck, doing the same to that spot.   
  
Jesus, Pete did not know how to take things slow at _all_.   
  
Pete was careful to leave only the smallest of hickeys, just in case Patrick changed his mind about Pete split-second and ditched him to switch stores in the mall without the hope of Patrick finding him again.   
  
He trailed a thumb over Patrick's lips, perfectly memorized by the shape of them. "Have I ever mentioned how gorgeous your mouth is? Because it's gorgeous."   
  
Patrick smiled, and Pete wiped the smile right off his face, soaked it in and claimed it as his own.   
  
"I'm afraid you haven't."  
  
Pete couldn't help but kiss him again, hands smoothing over the fabric of Patrick's clothes.   
  
"Well, thatʻs about to change."

Pete never worked at different store in the mall after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I managed to type this whole entire piece on my phone over the course of a late night and groggy morning. Inspired while I was at the mall, and thus, Peterick was born. I really appreciate any feedback greatly!


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